Meanwhile Count Veyhard struck himself on the forehead. “As God lives,” said he, “when I saw this Kmita yesterday it seemed as if I had known him somewhere. Now again I see before me that face. I remember the sound of his voice. I must have met him for a short time and in the dark, in the evening; but he is going through my head,—going—” Here he began to rub his forehead with his hand. “What is that to us?” asked Miller; “you will not mend the gun, even should you remember; you will not bring Kuklinovski to life.” Here he turned to the officers. “Gentlemen, come with me, whoso wishes, to the scene of this deed.” All wished to go, for curiosity was exciting them. Horses were brought, and they moved on at a trot, the general at the head. When they came to the little barn they saw a number of tens of Polish horsemen scattered around that building, on the road, and along the field. “What men are they?” asked Miller of Zbrojek. “They must be Kuklinovski’s; I tell your worthiness that those ragamuffins have simply gone wild.” Zbrojek then beckoned to one of the horsemen,— “Come this way, come this way. Quickly!” The soldier rode up. “Are you Kuklinovski’s men?” “Yes.” “Where is the rest of the regiment?” “They have run away. They refused to serve longer against Yasna Gora.” “What does he say?” asked Miller. Zbrojek interpreted the words. “Ask him where they went to.” Zbrojek repeated the question. “It is unknown,” said the soldier. “Some have gone to Silesia. Others said that they would serve with Kmita, for there is not another such colonel either among the Poles or the Swedes.” When Zbrojek interpreted these words to Miller, he grew serious. In truth, such men as Kuklinovski had were ready to pass over to the command of Kmita without hesitation. But then they might become terrible, if not for Miller’s army, at least for his supplies and communication. A river of perils was rising higher and higher around the enchanted fortress. Zbrojek, into whose head this idea must have come, said, as if in answer to these thoughts of Miller: “It is certain that everything is in a storm now in our Commonwealth. Let only such a Kmita shout, hundreds and thousands will surround him, especially after what he has done.” “But what can he effect?” asked Miller. “Remember, your worthiness, that that man brought Hovanski to desperation, and Hovanski had, counting the Cossacks, six times as many men as we. Not a transport will come to us without his permission, the country houses are destroyed, and we are beginning to feel hunger. Besides, this Kmita may join with Jegotski and Kulesha; then he will have several thousand sabres at his call. He is a grievous man, and may become most harmful.” “Are you sure of your soldiers?” “Surer than of myself,” answered Zbrojek, with brutal frankness. “How surer?” “For, to tell the truth, we have all of us enough of this siege.” “I trust that it will soon come to an end.”